


The Awakening

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6990160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another 'what happened during the missing night from all things?' fics</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Awakening

Soft tapping against the window from a spring rainstorm gently pulled Scully from sleep. Her eyes rolled open, closed, open again, then her brow furrowed and she squinted against the glow of Mulder’s fish tank. She turned her head away and breathed deeply, drowsy and warm. It smelled like rain and leather and Mulder’s cologne. A contented smile played upon her lips.

 

The Navajo blanket across her chest scratched her chin and she wiggled her fingers to pull it down just a little. Moving and stretching to get more comfortable, she was suddenly aware of the tightness of her pantyhose. Grimacing, she shifted her hips and wiggled her shoulders to get a little circulation going and alleviate the throbbing in her calves. When that failed to make her more comfortable she sighed, maneuvering and contorting under the blanket to remove the offending stockings.

 

She gave a sigh of relief, free from the constricting hosiery and feeling even more relaxed. The cool air that drifted in through the window made her shiver as it touched her now bare feet and she tucked her legs up under the blanket and reclined against the arm of the couch. Her sleepy eyes closed and she listened to the rain, letting it lull her back into a dreamy haze.

 

Suddenly, Scully opened her eyes and frowned. She didn’t remember falling asleep to begin with. She remembered having tea with Mulder and confessing to him the strangeness of her weekend, but she didn’t remember where the conversation ended and unconsciousness began.

 

_I saw things in that temple, Mulder. It was like someone wanted me to see these things and showed them to me._

_You had an Epiphany, Scully?_

_I don’t know. I can’t explain it._

_Try._

 

With her eyes at half-mast, she gazed at the bubbling fish tank. The fish darted to and fro, lively and very awake. She wondered if fish ever slept. She wondered where Mulder was and if he was as awake as his fish. She listened, but all she could hear was the tapping of the rain and the gurgle of the fish tank.

 

She remembered. “What if there was only one choice?” she mumbled to herself.   And then Mulder was about to wax philosophical on the conundrum or free will versus fate. It was what she had waited for as she had told him her tale, only to fall asleep just as soon as they’d reached the precipice. Damn.

 

So, what if there was only one choice? Did she choose to be here now, asleep on Mulder’s couch, or did something else lead her here? And what were the choices now? She could curl up under the blanket and go back to sleep. She could put her shoes on and go home in the cold and the rain and the dark. She could find Mulder and ask him to finish their conversation. She could find Mulder and…

 

Her heart sped up just a little faster when she thought about all the possibilities that started with finding Mulder. Those were the possibilities she usually kept suppressed deep inside, but something about seeing Daniel again reminded her what being in love was like. Something about being wanted by him reminded her that she wanted someone else. She wanted whatever road that led to waking up in Mulder’s bed, not on his couch.

 

Knowing that she had already made her choice, but that she would find a way to talk herself out of going to Mulder’s room if she lay on the couch any longer, she pushed herself up and then stopped to fold the blanket. She crept down his hallway, stepping lightly and hugging the wall. She felt devious in doing so, but wanted to stay as quiet as possible and his wood floors had the tendency to creak under pressure.

 

The door to Mulder’s room was open. The moonlight and streetlight coming in through the windows hit her toes where she stood and kept the bed in shadows. She couldn’t tell if he was awake and playing possum or if he was, in fact, asleep. The rain masked any sounds of deep breathing that might have given her a clue. She could tell he was on his stomach by the way his feet poked out from beneath his grey comforter, and when she took a step closer, the smooth expanse of his back shimmered where the light fell.

 

Silently, Scully walked around to the far side of the bed and sat down in the empty space next to his torso. She could see more of his face then, slack with sleep, mouth partially open and relaxed. His arms were bent up, right hand buried under his pillow and the left curled into a slight fist near his chin. She felt overcome with the urge to touch him, to just reach out and lay her hand on his shoulder and run her fingers down his back. Unconsciously, she did just that, his body heat radiating like a whisper against her palm before she withdrew, bringing her hand back to her lap before she made actual contact with his skin.

 

Her cheeks burned and she turned her face to the window, her back angled away so she wouldn’t have to look at him. He was a temptation she was tired of resisting, and up until the moment she sat down beside him, she thought she had the resolve to give up the battle against it, but she was still afraid to take that step. What if it wasn’t reciprocated?

 

“I can hear you thinking,” Mulder mumbled, and Scully jumped in surprise.

 

“Mulder,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him. “I thought you were asleep.”

 

“Not quite.” He breathed deeply and slowly rolled up onto his hip, struggling to prop himself up on his elbow. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and yawned.

 

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” she said.

 

“Everything okay?” He yawned again. “What are you doing awake?”

 

“The rain,” she answered, looking out the window again. She waited for a sign. Was the rain in itself a sign? An old day, washed away into something new. If she wasn’t right where she was supposed to be, by Mulder’s side, certainly a warning growl of thunder might show her the error of her ways. There was nothing but peaceful rainfall.

 

She felt a tap on her leg and she looked down. She watched as Mulder’s hand slid over the top of her thigh and came to rest on her knee. They both stayed silent until she turned her head to look back at him, chin resting on her own shoulder.

 

“Are you waiting for an engraved invitation, Scully?” he asked.

 

Her lips parted and she stopped breathing for a moment. He looked up at her with such a naked expression of longing that she felt absolutely captivated. She was speechless, staring at his puckered lips and spiky bed head and moonlit shoulders. How could it have taken so long?

 

“Dear Dana Katherine Scully,” Mulder said, scratching her knee with his index finger. “Your presence is requested at the Special Agents’ sleepover for two. Please RSVP accordingly. Signed, Fox William Mulder.”

 

She closed her eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. He moved his hand to her shoulder, sweeping his thumb up under her hair and across the top of her neck before sliding his fingers down her arm. He covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze. She blinked at him and licked her lips, leaning towards him to initiate a kiss, but Mulder squeezed her hand again.

 

“Post script,” he said. “There’s a dress code for this party.”

 

“Which is?”

 

“Optional.”

 

Scully ran her eyes over Mulder’s bare chest and down to the edge of the duvet, still covering his torso. He looked surprisingly calm, whereas she felt like she might hyperventilate. She licked her lips again and flicked her eyes up to his.

 

“In an effort not to be underdressed, or overdressed, Agent Mulder, what are you wearing?”

 

Mulder groaned and rolled towards her a little, but quickly backed away. “Hang on,” he said. “Let me close my eyes and then ask me that again.”

 

She huffed in amusement and tilted her head towards him. Their faces were only inches apart. “What are you wearing, Agent Mulder?” she whispered.

 

“Nothing but the birthday suit, Agent Scully.”

 

“Is that true?” She squinted to scrutinize his face.

 

“Only one way to find out.”

 

Scully raised her brow, wondering if Mulder would be so bold, with her asleep in the living room, his door open. Could he have predicted she would show up in his bed in the middle of the night? Or was it just wishful thinking.

 

Turning away, she slid to the edge of the bed and shrugged off her blazer. She folded it lengthwise and then leaned down to lay it on the floor by her feet. Next, she pulled her shirt off over her head, folded it, and placed it on top of the blazer. Nervous fingers fumbled with the catch of her bra, but she was able to unhook it after a few tries and she dropped it onto her shirt. She stood then and unzipped the side of her skirt, easing it over her hips before sitting back on the edge of the bed and slipping it off the rest of the way. It was also folded, and laid on top of the neat pile of clothes beside the bed.

 

She hesitated, a wave of modesty hitting her. They had seen each other naked before, under times of duress. It was one thing to catch a glimpse by accident and another to look with intent, not that either would see very much at the moment, dark as it was. And it wasn’t going to be just looking, it would be touching. Finally, touching.

 

“Scully,” Mulder said, lightly caressing her spine at the middle of her back with one finger before dragging it down a few inches to her tailbone. “I want to show you something.”

 

She glanced over her shoulder at him. He lifted the covers up, revealing that he was clad in a pair of black boxers.

 

“Calling yourself on your own bluff,” she said

 

“It’s getting cold in here, Scully.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Scully shifted her hips and leaned back onto her elbows. She scooted back as she picked her legs up onto the bed and Mulder brought the comforter down over her even before she finished adjusting herself beside him. Tentatively, his arm snaked across her waist, the first contact of his bare skin with hers. In an instant, she melted, and she knew it was the right choice.

 

“Mulder,” she said.

 

“What?” he replied, quickly lifting his arm from her, muscles going taut.

 

She smiled as she turned towards him, taking his arm and bringing it back down around her. He was still tense and she realized he was probably more nervous than she was, even if he was masking it well. It almost felt like he was trembling, or maybe that was her. She put a hand against his cheek, moving even closer until her chest was pressed against his.

 

“I just wanted to formally accept your invitation,” she whispered, reaching beneath the blanket as she spoke. “RSVP yes. And as of now, I believe I’ve fully complied with the dress code. Or lack thereof, as it were.” She pulled her arm out from the covers only to toss the pair of panties she’d peeled off seconds ago over her shoulder and onto the floor.

 

“I guess I better catch up,” he said, taking a moment to swallow and hold her gaze.

 

“I guess so.”

 

********

 

Scully woke in the morning feeling stiff, but well rested. She was on her back and Mulder was on his stomach, partially draped over her, his head on her shoulder, his arm across her waist. His soft, warm breath caressed her breast.

 

The room was dark and calm, still faintly smelling of rain. With a turn of her head, she checked the clock on the nightstand, sighing when she saw it was just almost five a.m. She knew she had to get up and she had to get home to get ready for work. She was loathe to do so, but mostly she was loathe to wake Mulder. There was no way she would leave his bed without letting him know she was leaving, no way.

 

“Mulder,” she whispered, nuzzling his hair with her chin. “Wake up.”

 

“Hm?” he groaned.

 

“Mulder, I have to go.”

 

Mulder made a noise in the negative and hugged her closer. She smiled as she moved her head to place a few tiny kisses to his shoulder. He relaxed enough for her to wiggle free from under his arm and he flipped over onto his back, mouth opening and closing as he swallowed and yawned. She ran her hand over his chest and he reached up to clasp her fingers, holding her palm against his heart. She leaned over and trailed soft kisses over his collarbone before resting her head against his neck.

 

“Next time I receive an invite to the Special Agent’ss sleepover, hopefully it’ll be more than five minutes notice and I can pack a bag,” she said.

 

Mulder’s eyes opened just a little and his lips curled into a smile. “You said next time,” he murmured. His voice was gravelly and warm.

 

“Go back to sleep. I’ll see you at the office.”

 

Scully rolled away before Mulder could convince her to stay. Her legs were wobbly, inner thighs sore from working muscles that hadn’t had activity in years. It was a pleasant kind of soreness, one she welcomed. She slipped her panties on before gathering the rest of her clothes from the floor and then paused before pulling the comforter up and tucking Mulder in so he wouldn’t get cold.

 

“Scully?” Mulder husked, angling his head towards her, eyes still closed.

 

“Yes?” she asked, setting her pile of clothes onto the edge of the bed so she could hook her bra on.

 

“You have a standing invite to the Special Agent’s sleepover, anytime and as often as you’d like.”

 

“I’ll remember that.”

 

She gathered her shirt and skirt, leaving the blazer on the bed, and went into the bathroom. She washed her face and used Mulder’s mouthwash to clean her teeth. Before she dressed, she went out to the living room to retrieve her shoes and pantyhose. Mulder’s fish were now at rest, floating lazily at the bottom of the tank. So they do sleep.

 

As she returned to the bathroom to finish dressing, Scully replayed pieces of the night in her head. After they finally kissed, there was some nervous chuckling and cautious touching. They didn’t talk, except for the occasional whisper of each other’s names or words of encouragement. They may have been a little clumsy and a little tentative, but if Scully could describe last night in one word it would be: perfect.

 

Standing in Mulder’s bathroom, staring at herself in his mirror, she pondered what would come next. While zipping her skirt and taking a few moments to finger-comb her hair into something decent, she thought about all the little moments that had brought her to this point, whether by fate or by choice. Good, bad, ugly, she was here, and she had to believe it was where she was supposed to be. She’d looked at a different life over the weekend and knew it wasn’t the one she was meant to have.

 

As she paused at the foot of the bed to pull on her blazer, Scully watched Mulder sleep, thinking about how much she did love this man. She would tell him one day, soon, but it wouldn’t be that morning. They always did their best communicating with what they didn’t say to each other anyway, but she would tell him, and when he least expected it.

 

She didn’t expect the acknowledgment of their feelings to change anything between them. In fact, she hoped it wouldn’t. A new layer of intimacy had been added, but that’s all it was. She imagined that Mulder would still exasperate her with his stubbornness and his arrogance and his eccentricities, but those were also things she loved about him. He would probably continue to run off on her, and that she didn’t love, but he wouldn’t be Mulder if he didn’t leap before looking.

 

He couldn’t be completely to blame, though. She would probably continue to shut him out of her feelings when she felt too vulnerable or exposed. She would probably tell him she was fine, even when she wasn’t, and refuse the comfort he had always so freely tried to give her. She would hurt him in this way and he would retreat to brood about it. And she would be even more jealous and possessive when he obliviously engaged in meaningless flirtations with all the women who couldn’t help but fawn over him.

 

This new path that they were on, it wasn’t going to be easy, but Scully was looking forward to the challenge.

 

The End

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
